
Gass- 
Book- 



M 



mmdtt and f jm«S of ittoltam f todn: 
A SERMON 



PREACHED IN THE 



EUTAW METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH, 



ON THE DAY OF 



NATIONAL HUMILIATION AND MOURNING, 

APPOINTED BY THE 

BY REV. JAS. A. McCAULEY. 



BALTIMORE: 
JOHN H. TOY, PRINTER. 

1865. 



©hiivactfv ami ^tiviccis at gtbvalwm ^ittwln: 
A S E RM N 



PREACHED IN THE 



EUTAW METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH, 



ON THE DAY OP 



NATIONAL HUMILIATION AND MOURNING, 



APPOINTED BY THE 



^kLil&ciaij., yLLiie i, -t^b3, 



BY REV. JAS. A. McCAULEY. 



BALTIMORE: 
JOHN D. TOY, PRINTER. 

1865. 



Baltivorb, June 2^/, 1865. 

Rev. J. A. McCAlTLEY, 

Dear Sir : 

Representing the wish of many members of the 

Congregation who had the pleasure of listening to the admirable discourse, 

delivered bj^ you on the late day of National Humiliation and Prayer, to have 

it for perusal and reflection ; and also their anxiety that it may have a publicity 

more commensurate with its merit and the importance of the subject it so forcibly 

discusses, the undersigned respectfully request a copy for publication. 

Truly and affectionately 3'ours, 

SAMUEL EELS BY, 

SDMMERFIELD BALDWIN, 

JOHN W. KREBS, 

WM. J. RELMAN, 

GEORGE W. MAGERS, 



HENRY D. SHRIVER, 
WESLEY STEVENSON, 
A. WESTERMAN, 
DAVID BALL, 
JOSEPH BARLOW. 



Baltimore, June 3(1, 1865. 
Gentlemen : 

I covet to be known, in every way, as honoring the man to whom the 
Nation owes so unspeakable a debt ; and could I feel that my Discourse was a 
worthy treatment of its theme, your proposal to prolong and widen its impres- 
sion would be to me a real satisfaction. Defective as it is, I place it in your 
hands, as thus, besides complying with your wish, my witness, though unworthy, 
may have a more enduring form than spoken words. 
Yours, very truly, 

J. A. McCAULEY. 
To S. Helsby, 

S. Baldwin, 

J. W. Krebs, and others. 



SERMON. 



Consider now great this man was. — Hebrews vii. 4. 

I SELECT these words with no design to use them in tlieir 
original reference. I take them merely as a motto for what 
I wish to say concerning the man in memory of whom this 
service is appointed. 

It is well the nation has heen summtmed to cease from its 
activities, and spend a day in contemplation of the scenes 
through which it has been passing. So stirring and so 
stunning have been the events crowding on us recently, 
sweeping us so rapidly through all the possibilities of emo- 
tion — casting us down, by one rude Ml, from the raptures 
of rejoicing to a sorrow too deep for utterance or tears — that 
we have been disqualified to estimate their real magnitude. 
People stirred as we have been: dizzy, one day, with joy, 
and dumb, the next, with grief; in the very whirl and din 
of events, destined to fill the brightest and darkest pages 
history will write, have lacked the composure needful to 
their just appreciation. Timely, then, this day of pause 
and contemplation truly is, saddened, though it be, by 
memories of a sorrow we can never cease to feel. 

Several days of our recent history will be noted in the 
calendar of coming years. One day bears the double stigma 
of treason's first and latest blow — the assault of Sumter, 
and the murder of the President. On that day, too, the 
nation lifted up the symbol of its majesty on the scene of its 
first humiliation. In fame and infamy, the fourteenth of 
April will be immortal. Eemembcred, too, while freedom 
has a friend, will be the day of Richmond's fall, and tlie 
days of the great surrenders. A day of sadder memory 



6 

will the present be. But one day like it has this nation 
known. When death removed the man, who made our 
fathers free^ the spectacle was seen of a nation hathed in 
tears. But the scene to-day is more affecting. That was 
the sorrow of an infant nation ; this, of one immensely 
grown. That was sorrow for a man who died; this, for one 
most foully slain. The man who piloted the nation through 
gloom, and stress, and storm, just as the gloom was break- 
ing, and the storm began to lay, while at the helm, was 
stricken down. Never was there such a blow. As the wires, 
flashed tlie heavy tidings from sea to sea, the nation put on 
sackcloth^ and wept as never nation wept before. That 
scene will go down in history without an equal in tlie annals 
of the race — a nation, elate with joy for rebcUitm overcome 
and liberty preserved, tearfully bewailing its illustrious 
Chief untimely slain. And though time has somewhat 
eased the agony that wrung all hearts, and, in a measure, 
dried the tears that could not be restrained, when the great 
bereavement fell upon us, it is not a form of sorrow in which 
the nation now unites. The people of this land, in solemn 
service, are to-day recording their tearful tribute to the hon- 
ored dead, and humbling themselves bei'ore Him, by wht)se 
righteous sufferance their great distress has come. 

We are calmer now than when, in the freshness of our 
grief, we shared in a service similar to this. And as our 
words could then but be the sobbings of our sorrow, it is fit 
they now should voice our more considered estimate of the 
man whose death we grieve. Of the deed itself, it will not 
be for this generation to think or speak, without emotion. 
But of its victim — his noble nature, and illustrious deeds — 
we are enough recovered now to calmly think and speak. 
To this my thoughts incline; and so 1 now invite you to 
review his character and services, as seen in connection with 
the struggle through which he led the nation to victory and 
peace. 

The order I propose regards his adaptation for the task 
assigned him to perform; the singleness of mind and stead- 
iness of zeal with which he bent himself to its accom])lish- 



ment; and the result which crowned his honest and persis- 
tent toil. In fitness, performance, and success, it is 
acknowledged now, and the years will growingly reveal that 
he was truly great. 

I. It is a truth not always seen at first, but afterwards 
perceived too clearly to be doubted, that the men, to whom it 
falls to take the lead in the great movements and struggles 
of oar race, have previously been schooled to fitness for their 
task. In the light of Scripture and of History, it can be 
clearly read, that God prepares, by special training, the 
instruments to execute His special purposes. Slowly, per- 
haps through generations. He gets the world ready for what 
He purposes to do ; and when, at last, the time is full, there 
never fails to step forth one qualified to take the lead, and 
carry His purpose on to consummation. 

Israel's leader was an instance. Four liundred years — from 
til e day of Abram's call, till the cry of an oppressed people 
rose to heav^en — God was educating a people for severance 
and isolation, that they, in turn, might educate the world 
for His ultimate designs of mercy to the race. At length 
they are ready to go forth on their Providential mission, 
and one to lead them is at hand. Peculiar was the training, 
which formed that Hebrew boy for leadership and rule. 
From the bosom of the Nile, he was transferred to the palace 
of the Pharaohs. Until his fortieth year the schools of 
Egypt opened to him the treasures of their lore ; and gave 
him thus, as far as learning could, fitness for his destined 
mission. But other fitness he would need: heroic firmness, 
which foes and dangers could not turn; a sturdy strength, 
which toils could not break down. And as courts were not 
the place to foster these, God sent him to complete his 
training in a sterner school. Forty years a herdsman, fol- 
lowing flocks among the deep ravines and frowning sides of 
Midian mountains, he was nurtured to a vigor, which bore 
unhurt the cares and burdens of the Exodus ; and when^ 
forty years thereafter, he sank to rest on Nebo, "his eye 
was not dim, nor his natural force abated." In that school. 



8 

too — aloof from men, in the lonclinoHS of these grand soli- 
tudes communing with himself and God — lie grew to sucli a 
consecration that, only once in forty years, a thouglit of self 
dishonored God. By training so peculiar and ])rotracted 
did God prepare, for tlie enslaved seed of Israel, a Leader 
into liberty. And so in all his great designs. John, to 
herald Christ, and Paul^to prcacli among the Gentiles, were 
the fittest men of all thit lived, because of what their lives 
had been. And so in all the social struggles by which our 
race has won its way to any higher ground: the men, who 
bore the banners, got tlieir place, and did their work, because 
of special fitness. 

Abraham Lincoln was raised up of God to be the instru- 
ment of a great Providential purpose: to conserve the libei- 
ties bequeathed us by our fathers, and to make the bond 
among us free. On the sky of our long night, God has been 
writing this fact for the world's recognition; and, now tliat 
day has dawned, it shines as clear as shines the sun. Recall 
the facts. The struggle was peculiar. It lacks but little of 
a hundred years since the Colonies declared their ])ur})OHe to 
be a nation ; and b}^ their prowess, under God, they made 
their purpose good. Not only, however, to he, but to continue, 
nations must prove tlieir worthiness. And hist(M-y shows 
that nations have a double peril to their perpetuity — from 
without, and from within. Fifty years ago this nation hum- 
bled, on land and sea, its mightiest foreign foe, and taught 
the rest respect. The world won to fairness, there was no 
danger now but from within. It was not long till mutter- 
ings of this began to jar the land. Interest of sections 
clashing, it feigned to be; but its real root and character 
were not long concealed. This nation was the birth of one 
idea — Liberty. But another, essentially incongruous, wove 
itself into the nation's life — Slavery, In their irreconcilea- 
ble antagonism, it was early seen our greatest peril lay. 
Mollified by compromise, for thirty years slavery was con- 
tent with menacing and noise ; but these grew angrier with 
the years, breaking forth at last in the traitorous resolve 
that, if not allowed to overleaj) lis bt)unds, and have the 



9 

soil of IVeeduiu I'ur its own, it would take the nation's liic. 
Favoring its design was the theory it held, that the Status 
were not component parts of one organic whole, hut separate 
sovereignties, entitled at their option to withdraw. Follow- 
ing this, wherever it could, it decreed dismemberment, and 
drew the sword to cleave its way to separate empire. What- 
ever any think, this they may be sure the pen of history 
will write was the real nature of the contest into which 
the nation was compelled. Placable no more, Slavery de- 
creed that Liberty should perish, sooner than its purposes 
be ibiled. Whatever in the land had affinity for this, 
gathered to its standard — with sword and bullet, those it 
could control ; with smiles and succor, foes of freedom 
everywhere. Fighting these, in front and rear, while on 
the issue hung the fate of Liberty, was tlie real nature of that 
contest from which the nation is emerging now — emerging, 
God be praised, with victory on its banners. 

I speak of this that we may see how manifestly he, who was 
the nation's leader in this great battle for its life, reveals a 
litness, which compels belief that his selection was of God. 
In all his previous history we now can see the Providential 
training of a champion for the Nation's cause in the day of 
its great peril. Sprung from the people, love of freedom 
fired and filled him. To this his being jnilsed ; to this his 
life was consecrate. His patriotism was a vestal fire : it 
went not out, nor waned. Again and again was his deep 
conviction uttered, that freedom is the right of all. He 
was the impersonation of that one idea, of which this Repub- 
lic was the birth and the embodiment. Coming up from 
humblest occupations, to posts of honor in the nation, till the 
highest was attained, the unequalled excellence of the insti- 
tutions, framed and left us by the fathers, was graven dceji 
upon his heart by experience of their kindly working. And 
in that love for these, which began with his life^ and grew 
with his years, and was fostered by his fortune, consists the 
ground-work of his fitness_, when these were put in peril, to 
marshal the Nation's energies for their preservation. In say- 
ing this I do not mean that, when hostile hands were lifted 



10 

to cleave down the nation's liberties, no one else of all its 
sons abhorred the traitorous deed as much as he ; but only 
that devotion to the cause of freedom, and abhorrence of the 
system in whose interest the treason was conceived, were a 
needful part of fitness for the work assigned him to perform. 
And these in part single him out as the chosen of God to 
direct the nation's energies in the struggle for its life. 

But other qualities were his, rarely fitting him for that 
great work. Minds of loftier mould could likely have been 
found ; finer culture surely could. But it is doubtful if the 
nation had a single other mind, better qualified than his, to 
grapple witli the great necessities of the Presidential ofiice 
during his term. The world, I think, consents that he was 
a man remarkable for quick and clear perception ; lor cau- 
tious, acute, almost unerring, judgment ; for a will in which 
pliancy and strength w^ere combined, in a singular degree. 
And, to the occupant of his position, these were qualities of 
imperative necessity. The easy round of peaceful times was 
not the path he must pursue. To deal with trials wholly 
new was the task that faced him at tlie first, and pressed 
him to the last. No sooner was he chosen, than rebellion 
braced its arm to strike. The tones of his inaugural had 
scarcely died upon the nation's ear, when worse than light- 
ning- fires lit up the land, and thunders of war made the ear 
of the world tingle. Yet, unappalled by these, with faith 
in the right, and faith in the Lord, he grasped the reins for 
that perilous career on which he had been driven ; and, to the 
admiration of the world, he held them, till the assassin's 
bullet struck them loose, just as was wheeling the nation, 
through the gates of victory, into the morning light of peace. 
On such a course — so full of perils so untried, and daily new, 
frowning here, and yawning there — only the keenest eye, the 
coolest brain, the steadiest hand, could save the nation from 
disaster. Happy for the nation, God had given it a guide 
possessing these abilities in wonderful degree. With intui- 
tive celerity, he saw the dangers as they rose, and saw the 
wisest thing to do ; and, with steady purpose, rested not till 
it was done. 

\ 



11 

Even his peculiarities were no trivial part of his pecu- 
liar fitness for tlie place. Quaint, uncourtly, even droll, 
many, who wished him well, thought his ways and talk 
sometimes undignified ; while foes were never Aveary, Avith 
tongue and pen, hlazoning these as proofs of incapacity. But, 
when people came to see that these were but the healthful 
play of a genial and transparent nature, that through them 
gleamed the genuine ore of invincible good sense, they wrote 
them down for what they were — efficient helps to his great 
work. The flash of humor was a medicine to him ; and it 
poured a liglit sometimes into the very centre of perplexities, 
Avhich no logic could unravel. His manner, ahvays kind, 
drew the people to him with stronger hooks than steel. 
The humblest got as near^ and were as welcome to his 
presence, as the mightiest that came. 

But time would fail to mention all that marked him as the 
man of Providence. Patience that toiled untiringly ; that 
bore, unfainting, loads of care and woi'k, which hardly one 
of any million could have borne ; honesty transparent as the 
light ; iinseduced by any bait, unswerved by any pressure, 
hastening on, with single purpose^ to its goal, the nation's 
good; kindliness and clemency almost superhuman, which* 
hatred and abuse seemed but to kindle to an ardor more 
divine, breaking out at last in those grand words, which 
will ring down the centuries — ''malice toward none, charity 
for all ;" even meditating kindest things for bitterest foes, 
when murder struck him down — all these were his, and, with 
the rest, compose a wondrous fitness for the work allotted 
him to do. A man of the people — one with them in training, 
habitudes and spirit ; of keen perception, practical sense, and 
wisely-yielding will ; of patience, conscientiousness, and 
clemency, seldom united in mortal before — he centered in 
himself a combination of qualities, which can leave no room 
for doubt that God prepared him for the nation's need. 

II. From his fitness, I pass to speak of his performance : 
the singleness of zeal with which he bent himself to meet 
the nation's need. 



lie took tliu Presidential seat with one idea — to save the 
Unionofthe States. Thatwas tlie single stai- that lixedhis eye. 
For that he steered. Never from that could he be bent. His 
personal wish for any result beside sank and was lost in the 
mairnitude of this. All measures were good that furthered 
this ; all that hindered it were bad ; and those were best tliat 
helped it most. He Avas ibrced into a struggle in which he i'elt 
that he must have the nation's energies on his side, or iail. 
Hence one axiom controlled his policy : as people think, they 
will do; as opinion rules, power goes. With an end in view 
that consecrated all means, the conservation of national 
liberty, his sole concern, regarding policy, was to have it be 
a reflex of the predominant opinion of the nation, that so 
it might command the preponderant power of the nation. 
Narrowly he watched the schooling of events. As these came 
dimly whirling from the mists — from smoke of battles and 
the darkness of defeat — no keener eye was turned to see them 
taking shape ; no readier mind to accept their lesson. That 
liis policy, from first to last, was undergoing change was not, 
as sneeringly was said, because he was volatile, witliout a 
settled purpose, a reed in the wind, a feather on the wave. 
J-t was because there was in him, that practical wisdom 
v.diich^ with a goal in view, watches the tide, and takes tlie 
flood, and goes to ibrtune. As the currents of o})inion swe})t 
wildly by, he did not try to battle them, but bent his sail to 
catch their force, that so the precious ark, instead of stag- 
gering in the storm, or going down beneath the wave, might 
be carried, if with creaking timbers, yet unwrecked, to where 
the haven lay in peaceful ca,lm. Had he been a Avilful man, 
set on following certain lines, despite the pressure of events, 
Columbia would to day be weeping, not for him, but for 
freedom, slain. 

Open thus to Providential teaching, he came, as soon as 
it was safe, to that measure, with which his name will go 
down to immortality — Emancipation. Long before the war, 
his individual views were on the side of universal liberty. 
No public man had done more efficient battle for it, with 
tongue and ])en, than he. But when he found himself the 



13 

head of the imi)GrikMl nation, and needing to unite the 
nation's strength to wage the battle for its life, he would 
not travel in the line of his desires, faster than the nation 
signified its wish. None can donht that he was right in 
judging the nation unprepared for this measure, when the 
war began. Adopted then, he had been deserted by the bor- 
der States entire, and by niany in the North, and so tlio 
Union had been lost. But opinion drifted to it rapidly as 
martial necessity. And candid men will not deny that, had 
he delayed much longer than he did to smite the shackles 
from tlie bound, the masses, unwilling longer to connive at 
what they now believed the sole occasion of the great rebellion 
against their liberties, would have left him unsupported ; 
and so, for this, tlie Union had been lost. This determined 
its ado})tion. Solemnly he had said, if freeing a slave would 
peril the Union, he would forbear ; or, he would shatter the 
system, if so he could the better compass its safety. Events 
were solving which to do. Two years of indecisive war had 
passed. The armies of the West had scarce been able to 
keep back the tide of invasion ; and, in the East, matters 
had gone even worse. The army of the Potomac had closed 
a disastrous campaign. The Peninsula gory with the blood 
of thousands shed in vain; the grand army driven from the 
Eapidan, broken and dismayed, to the very gates of the 
Capital ; the foe aggressive ; the Potomac crossed ; fear of 
rapine, sword and flame ; all were summoning the nation to 
a solemn inquisition. Standing on his tower of anxious 
observation, Mr. Lincoln seemed to hear it borne from every 
quarter, that now it was the will of most that freedom be 
proclaimed. Voicings of disaster, of the press, and of the 
ballot, seemed unitedly to say, Ee-inscribe the nation's ban- 
ner. He ventured to obey ; and, while the guns of Antietam 
held the nation silent, he penned the notice of his great 
resolve. The earliest light of 'G3 revealed upon the banner's 
folds, beneath the old device, another word^ — Emancipation. 
The world read and shouted its approval. And though 
some among ourselves trembled lest that word should prove 



14 

the signal of our doom, a little while revealed that he had 
rightly read the nation's will. 

Thenceforth two stars flamed in his sky: Union — liberty 
conserved for those already free ; and Emancipation — liberty 
decreed for the millions hitherto enslaved. These he stead- 
ily pursued. Through storm and calm^ through victory and 
reverse, toward these he sought to lead the nation on. 
Questioned from whatever source, he let fall no word ignor- 
ing these. Whether writing to any it might concern, or 
speaking to representatives of the tottering rebellion, seek- 
ing armistice and compromise, while assuring of concession 
on every minor point, he clung to these: unconditional 
acknowledgment of the national supremacy, and acquies- 
cence in the fiat enfranchising the slave. And though for 
this he fell, it was not till he had seen these stars fixed in 
the clearing azure of the nation's sky, beyond the peril of 
extinction or eclipse. 

III. A closing word I wish to say concerning his achieve- 
ment — the success which crowned his patient waiting, and 
assiduous toil. To measure this, in all it means, the time 
has not yet come. The great i'acts appear, indeed, before 
our eyes so real, so cheeringly in contrast with all that 
recently has been, as to compel their recognition. Recently 
the land was lurid with the flames of war; the air was 
heavy with its woes. Now the noise of guns is hushed. 
The dust is lifting from the field. Columbia smiles from sea 
to sea. Grandly loom the great results: the Republic is 
safe ; treason is dead, or dares no longer strike ; one flag 
floats, and not a second will. These results^ for which the 
nation has been toiling, as nation never toiled before, are 
facts accomplished now. And much of what they mean we 
already comprehend. We know that the questions, so trou- 
blous in the })ast, will no more disturb the nation's peace. 
State supremacy, that restless spirit which walked the land 
so long, and which no skill of Statesmen could compose, has 
been laid to sleep to wake no more. General Lee is rumored 
to have said, '^'the right of a State to secede was an open 



15 

question till my fliihive settled it.'" It is settled now. No 
more will rivalries of rule disturb the nation's peace. No 
more the stars will leave the sun. In the Union every State 
will stay, each pursuing its allotted course, and dutifully 
doing its appointed work. 

But order not alone, universal liLerty has been achieved. 
The nation's stain has been expunged. The one incongru- 
ous element has been taken from its life. To-day it stands 
before the world, and henceforth will, the real embodiment 
of that great ti-uth which its founders so nobly proclaimed, 
the right of all to "life, liberty and the pursuit of happi- 
ness." And thus is sealed the other source of dissension 
and disturbance. At the ballot, where people voice their 
will, in the halls where laws are made, and on the benches 
of decision, Slavery will no more inflame feeling, darken 
counsel, pervert judgment, or inspire sedition. Quietus — 
may it be eternal ! — has come to this potency of ill. 

All of this is clear to us. But the measure of blessing 
treasured in these results, for revelation and enjoyment in 
the future we are pressings is hidden from our eyes. Eleva- 
tion of the masses ; development of material resource ; scope 
for energy, growth of every kind, the coming generations 
will increasingly attain, which, could they be pictured now, 
would be pronounced the pencillings of poetry, or the visions 
of romance. 

But whatever they may prove, our martyred President 
will be associated with them. Through all the ages yet to 
c(nne, the generations of the American ])eoi)lc will growingly 
revere and cherish him as the man, who, under God, pre- 
served their imperiled institutions, and made them instru- 
mental of the richer benefactions they increasingly dispense. 
Nor they alone. Throughout the world friends of liberty 
will keep fresh garlands on his brow, and consign the keeping 
of his fame to their best traditions. The appreciation of his 
character and deeds, as uttered in the tributes which have 
come across the sea, seems as warm and loving, if not so uni- 
versal, in other lands_, as in the land for which he lived and 
died. Like Washington, he is not ours exclusively : the world 



IG 

claims him. A French historian of fame concludes an able 
and appreciative estimate of the man and his services, in 
words that echo the heart of freedom every where: '^'And 
now let liim rest by the side of Washington, the second 
ibunder of the Republic. European democracy is present, in 
spirit, at his funeral, as it voted in its heart for his re-elec- 
tion, and applauds the victory in the midst of which he i)asses 
away. It will wish, with one accord, to associate itself with 
tlie monument that America will raise to him upon the 
capital of prostrate Slavery." 

And now for the loss of such a benefactor the nation 
mourns, and humbles itself before Him whose sufferance has 
allowed this heavy blow to fall. Dark, indeed^ is this 
event; but the wrath of man shall praise Him. The fame 
of Mr. Lincoln will not be hurt — it likely will be helped — 
by the tragic close of his career. All the more lovingly 
will he be thought of, and all the more undyingly his ser- 
vices be cherished, for the cruel manner of his ''taking off." 
Washington rounded up a glorious life with a peaceful death. 
The eyes of a prepared and expectant nation were turned 
upon the couch, where ministries of love were tenderly soli- 
citious of all that could make his exit easy. But our pre- 
server fell in the midst of unaccomplished work ; fell when, 
with fonder and more confiding expectancy, than ever before, 
the torn and troubled nation looked to him to heal its feud 
and stay its sorrow ; fell unwarned, and in a place that 
deepens the sorrow of his fall ; fell by a blow that lacks no 
accessory to make it the darkest, foulest, most atrocious, 
ever dealt against a human life. We do not claim that he 
was perfect, for he was a man. But we claim that he so 
stood in his Providential lot, and did his work so well, that 
the ages will enthrone him by the side of those who have 
lived and labored most to benefit their kind. 



LB S '12 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




012 028 743 6 



